


fuzzy memories

by Anonymous



Series: block men bring me Dopamine lmao [1]
Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Amnesia, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Gen, Ghostbur, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I love him, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, Light Angst, OK THIS IS SAD, god i love wilbur soot, hes just, i love ghostbur with my whole heart, ill link it once i find it again i promise, im a bad writer, inspider by another fic that i forgot the name of-, so precious, things i remember
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:08:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28184421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: What I Remember (by Ghostbur)- The smell of bread- L'manberg- The Revolution- Bullying Tommy (He's a child)- Sparring with Techno as a kid- The wind- Being president- People cheering for me- Fundy growing up- Niki- The van- Tubbo building everything- Phil protecting me- Sally the Salmon- Philza stabbing me to death with a sword- A large explosion- The taste of salt- Air in my lungs- Winning the elections- A ravine- Techno's armory- Books- Tunnels- ArrowsI...- I dont know---or: ghostburs just wants to remember
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson
Series: block men bring me Dopamine lmao [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2167245
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36
Collections: Anonymous





	fuzzy memories

**Author's Note:**

> i am not a good writer, and i am very sorry that you are subjecting yourself to this. feel free to leave whenever you damn well please, i really do not mind. it's just an angsty short story because i was sad and felt inspired. (best experienced when listening to the entire Your City Gave Me Asthma album by Wilbur Soot. just trust me on this one, dude. it's on spotify and youtube.)

I spin the quill in my hand. My memories are hazy, as though they aren't even there. My mind is patchwork, it is my job to just put the puzzle pieces together as much as possible. 

The smell of bread.  
The warm scent, making my mouth water and reminding me of home and dawn and family. And friendship, sharing with family while a movie plays in the background. Doing the dishes while music plays, laughter and joy. A meal with loved ones.  
I don't think that had ever happened.

Niki.  
A friend, and confidante, someone who was always there when I needed them. The bakery, though the image was fuzzy, was warm. Bread. Niki smelled like bread.  
"Wil, I want you to do whatever you think is right," followed by a hand on the shoulder and a soft smile.  
Did I ever say goodbye?  
Niki.  
Friendship. Warmth. Familiarity.  
Whatever happened to her...

Phil.  
The name dances on my consciousness, though I'm not sure who it belongs to. It makes me feel happy, like receiving a hug. The smell of war, and the fear of the dark, chased away by warm arms wrapping around me and reassurances whispered in my ear. Crying after a nightmare, and getting a mug of hot chocolate and words of comfort.  
There wasn't a face attached to the name anymore, just a feeling of warmth and comfort. Running to the mans room, knocking on the door, a stuffed animal hugged against my side.  
"It's ok, son," whispered into my hair. A kiss to the forehead, and being rocked to sleep.  
Phil.  
Home. Family. My father.  
I can't hug anymore, though.

L'Manburg.  
My symphony, my greatest achievement. The sounds of victory, with many men at my side. A flag waving, wars waged, a new land. Freedom, rebellion, a van.  
Selling... hot dogs?  
Yeah. Selling hot dogs.  
No vegan hot dogs, no bread. Just a sausage.  
I smiled.  
Humble beginnings, and creation.  
Revolution. Fists in the air, screaming and betrayal. Pure adrenaline. I had felt alive, determined to make my nation.  
L'Manburg.  
Home.

Laughing during screaming, a fond smile with harsh words, hugs and teasing. Holding him as he cried. Swearing and cursing at me, followed by a hug. A sense of normalcy, the only constant in a world of uncertainty. My brothers. A child too hollow for his age, his voice too big for his lanky body, his eyes too bright and his smile too wide. Everything about Tommy is too big.  
Tommy.  
A child born in war, the most determined of everyone I have ever met.  
Bullying Tommy. He's a child.  
He's too mature for his age...

Metal on metal, clanging loudly, the sound ringing in our ears. My sword being knocked from my hand, followed by a flash of pink and a bright smile.  
A monotone voice bragging about winning, laughter.  
Comradery?  
Brotherhood? Brothers. Twins. He was older by two minutes, I think.  
Pink hair. A hand extending, helping me to my feet.  
"Again?" that voice...  
I wanted to go again.  
Sparring.  
Fighting with no malice. The only time I would ever do such a thing.

Lying in the grass, letting the wind ripple through my hair. The grass swaying, the frogs croaking at the pond. A drug pond? No, that's stupid. Feeling the water dance on my fingertips as I cause ripples and waves through the crystal water, watching the sun dip below the horizon.  
The feeling of the wind on my skin, and my heart in my ears, a song in my head and a smile on my face.  
The wind.  
I miss the feeling of the wind. The taste of air, filling my lungs with relief. The salty ocean water on my tongue, making my face contort in discomfort.

I miss feeling.

Wading through the river, expecting to find something boring. A lady with a tail, inspecting me head to toe, her hair plastered against her skin. The heat in my cheeks and the smile on my face.  
Sally.  
She was beautiful.  
We had a child, I think. A small fox boy. I found him in the forest after I met Sally. I remember that.  
I remember bringing him to my family.  
His name was... Floris. No... Fundy! Fundy...  
Watching him play in the tall grass, teaching him to use a sword, kissing his forehead goodnight. Him embarrassed at my smothering.  
Yelling and screaming.  
Bits and pieces, scattered in my brain.  
Watching Fundy grow up.

Counting and recounting and counting again, taking away any invalid counts.  
Politicians of Gaming.  
Me and Tommy, working together.  
We won!  
An explosion, my ears ringing. A button, I think.  
I don't remember.

Tunnels and arrows and books, a dark room with another button? No, there was no button in this room. Chests and supplies, hope and daring.  
A... ravine?  
An armory.  
Buttons lining the walls. There are so many buttons. Why is that?  
I don't remember.

I... I can't remember.  
Why can I not remember?

The taste of metal, the colour red. Hugging my dad goodnight and closing my eyes.  
A shining blue sword.  
Begging, pleading, hoping. Looking over wreckage.  
How did that happen?  
Pain, then I'm numb. I hug my father.  
I hug Phil.  
Techno is laughing.  
I can't see Tommy.  
Laughter.  
I think I was smiling.  
I'm still hugging Phil, I think.  
And then I'm floating.

Am I crying?

Why am I crying?

I'm not sad.

Why am I crying?

**Author's Note:**

> kudos are appreciated, i think??? idk how ao3 works. criticism is appreciated for sure tho :)  
> i hope you cried


End file.
